The Adventures of Rebecca the Vindictive Vamp
by angel eyes1 uk
Summary: Spin-off from Red Eyes and the She Wolf. "I wasn't always the monster I became over time. This is the story of my life and not-quite death." A short story covering Rebecca's transformation, her life as a vampire, and her lost love, Robert.
1. Chapter 1 The Weaker Sex

**The Adventures of Rebecca the Vindictive Vamp**

_**Summary: Spin-off from Red Eyes and the She Wolf. "I wasn't always the monster I became over time. This is the story of my life and not-quite death." A short story covering Rebecca's transformation, her life as a vampire, and her lost love, Robert.**_

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**I do not own Stephenie Meyer's Twilight universe, no copyright infringement intended. Rebecca the vindictive vamp, however, is a product of my own twisted imagination.**

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**This short three chapter story is the background of an original character introduced in my multi-chapters **_**Red Eyes and the She Wolf**_** and **_**The Burning of Lucius Demetrius Flavius**_**. If you have read these stories, then you know why I finish the story where I do—some things are best left to the imagination. Reading these stories isn't essential, but it would be handy to have some knowledge of the Volturi's history in my world, and how Rebecca ends up.**

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**Thank you to my friend, Becky, for not minding me using her name for a not so nice character. I hope Robert goes some way towards making up for it!**

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**Thanks also to WolvesCanEatMe, WolfGirlAtHeart and BforQueen for their help with this little flight of fancy. You're full of awesomeness, guys!**

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**WARNING – THIS GETS PRETTY DARK – REBECCA DIDN'T HAVE AN EASY LIFE/DEATH. RAPE, MURDER, SCENES OF A SEXUAL NATURE. – JEEZ, YOU'D THINK THIS WAS A HORROR STORY!**

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**Written to the sound of "For the Love of a Princess" on the Braveheart soundtrack.**

**I imagine Rebecca to look like Megan Fox, and Leofrid, like the unknown guy on my banner, who is mainly photo manipulation.**

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**Chapter One – The Weaker Sex**

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**11****th**** Century Normandy**

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I ran as fast as I could through the forest, panting and gasping for breath. The light was fading fast and unlike my pursuers, I did not have the advantage of torches. Over the sound of my heavy breathing, I could still hear their voices behind me.

I held my skirts up so they would snag less, and I made my way across the muddy earth, knowing that with each step I was more thoroughly lost. I had no idea where I was heading, but I couldn't let them catch me. By my own actions, I had jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.

My husband, Jacques, had been drafted into a makeshift army to help defend the Duke's lands against the invading Bretons from the West. I had last seen him six months ago, and heard no word since. Being uneducated but still a woman of some common sense, I knew that it was highly unlikely that I would see him again.

Jacques had been a farmer, not a fighter. I had mourned him from the moment he'd walked out of the door.

Luckily or unluckily, depending on how you looked at it, I was childless. Unable to manage my small home on my own, I had moved in with my sister. Being another mouth to feed in an already poor household, my brother-in-law had attempted on more than one occasion to take payment from me in other ways. I was not the type of woman to lie back and give up the fight and he remained frustrated.

Not that he was a threat any longer.

My sister and I had been preparing a soup from what few ingredients we could find, when Gil had rushed home from the fields, yelling at my sister to find his hunting bow and his long knife.

A group of Bretons had attacked him and a few other men while they worked, and Gil had barely escaped with his life. Matilda had begged him to run, but instead, he'd insisted that he wasn't going to let anyone turn him out of his home. My brother-in-law had never been a man of much intelligence, but we followed his insistence and stayed.

Matilda, the children, and I had hidden inside the house, underneath a wooden table in the middle of the room. We huddled together, my niece and nephew sobbing, and my sister whispering to keep them calm; it wasn't long until we heard fighting outside.

We knew that Gil had been overpowered before the door burst open, and the strangely accented Frenchmen had stormed inside. Our hiding place was as good as useless and we were roughly dragged from underneath the table.

My sister and the children had been taken outside screaming, but one of the men had held me back.

Lean through lack of food and still in possession of a girlish figure due to my inability to conceive, I looked younger than my twenty-three years. I was also well aware that my wavy, dark hair set off my pale, blue eyes, and that the opposite sex took a great interest in me. In this moment, however, I would have given anything to have my sister's matronly build—I was keen enough to know that no matter what happened in this room now, my ultimate fate would be no different from Matilda's and her offspring.

I screamed and struggled as the large, ginger brute grabbed me and pushed me into a corner, whispering coarse sounding words in a version of French I did not understand. I had no wish to know exactly what it was that he was saying.

As I tried to push his hands away from me, I avoided his mouth as his foul breath filled my lungs. He tried to lift my dress but I struggled for all I was worth, and was rewarded with a stinging palm against my right cheek.

Stunned, I stopped fighting and the red-haired monster took this as a sign of my submission, but he was wrong. I took a few moments to look around me and saw the knife that I had been using earlier to chop mushrooms; it was hardly the sharpest of implements, and not much of a weapon in comparison to the swords that the Bretons carried. While the beast pinning me to the wall shifted in preparation, I leaned slightly to one side, grabbed the knife, and instinctively thrust it into the side of his neck.

The man froze and as blood spattered across my shocked face; his eyes glazed over and he dropped first to his knees, and then to the floor.

At first, I did not move and instead watched as the man that I had just killed gurgled his last breath. I remained motionless until I heard the unmistakable ring of a sword being drawn outside.

In our tiny, round dwelling, there was a smaller rear door; I bolted for it, and headed for the cover of the trees not far away. Before I'd managed to reach the cover of the forest, an arrow whistled past me—the other Breton soldiers had realised I was gone.

Since that moment, I hadn't even paused for breath. They were still close behind, and I knew that a terrible end would befall me if I allowed them to catch up. I'd rather run myself into the ground first.

The sun set and then I could barely see a foot in front of me, but I could see a faint yellow glow of torches through the trees as the Bretons continued their pursuit. Now and again, they called out and taunted me. They knew I was here, and I guessed now I was just sport.

My lungs burned and my entire body ached; I was cut and bruised from where I'd stumbled and come across unexpected trees in the dark. Exhausted, I could barely manage to walk and my tormentors gained on me.

I glanced behind me and wondered how long I had left before they eventually caught me. Taking another step forward, I froze.

In front of me was a man; his hair was dark and he wore a mail shirt, but I could barely make out much more about him in the dark. I took a sharp intake of breath and stepped backwards, tripping over a stone and falling to the ground.

He whispered something in a foreign language, not Breton, and paused. He looked up and saw the approaching torches.

"Norman?" he said to me in my own native tongue, and I nodded, still unable to speak as I inhaled and exhaled deeply. "Wait here. I will deal with them."

Unable to do anything else but comply, I did not move a muscle and instead stayed sitting with my legs at awkward angles from the fall.

I did not know what the stranger intended on doing, but with his armour he seemed to be a nobleman. Maybe he was my knight in shining armour come to protect my virtue? It was a shame he was only one and the Breton thugs were many.

There was a commotion in the direction of the torches, and I heard shouts and cries before it went silent. I quietly thanked the brave but stupid knight for his attempt to take the men on, and braced myself for one final struggle as torchlight approached.

When it finally got near, I saw that it was only one solitary man walking toward me.

"They will not bother you again, miss," the knight said, and once he came a little closer, I saw his pale face in the dim light for the first time. He was handsome, and he wore a tunic with unfamiliar colours over his expensive mail. "Would you like to come with me? It's a long journey to the nearest settlement, but I would be glad to escort you."

I waited a moment while I thought. Always suspicious of men's motives, I wondered what he might possibly want in return.

"What were you doing out here in the forest?" I said, hoping the question might give me some kind of clue as to what kind of man my rescuer was. Though he had undoubtedly been my saviour, something about him made me feel uneasy—the way he seemed so still and so calm, though he had just single-handedly battled five armed and dangerous men.

"I was hunting." He spoke French with a strange tone to his vowels, and I could not place where he was from, but he was not Norman.

The foreigner held his hand out to me, and I apprehensively took it and got to my feet. His skin was strangely cold and solid, but I guessed that if he had been standing out here in the dark for a while, he was likely to be frozen.

Now that I was no longer sprinting for my life, I began to feel the cold myself, and I guessed that wandering in the woods on my own was far more dangerous than having someone who wasn't lost to guide and protect me.

"Do you have a horse?" I looked up at him and watched the flickering shadows on his face in the torchlight. He smiled.

"No, I travel on foot. Sorry, I forgot that you must be tired. Would you rather wait until morning?"

I said nothing while I weighed up my options. I did not feel safe here in the woods with a stranger, but I really didn't have anywhere safer to go. My body screamed at me for rest, and in the end I gave in.

"Yes." I looked around for somewhere mossier and less stony to get comfortable.

"Let me light a fire." The knight passed me the torch and headed off into the dark to gather wood. I wondered how he would be able to see, but he came back sooner than expected with armfuls of kindling. Luckily, it had been a reasonably dry autumn and the wood wasn't sodden.

I sat hunched up into a ball while he got the fire going. He took his green and yellow tunic off and sat there in his mail, giving his unwanted garment to me. I wrapped it around me tightly.

"Lie down. Go to sleep—I will keep watch."

I lay down on the ground, and I finally decided that the stranger's kind acts had earned my trust. Closing my eyes, I forgot about the cold and allowed my tired legs to rest.

When I drifted off into bloody dreams, I was back in my sister's house and alone with my would-be rapist. I replayed the scene that had happened earlier, but this time, as my knife punctured the side of his neck and he dropped to the ground, he transformed into Jacques. In my dream I gasped and fell to my knees beside my cold, unmoving husband. Sobbing, I realised that I'd killed the man I loved.

Then I awoke with a shock. For a few moments I wondered where I was, but I saw my rescuer still sitting across the fire from me.

"It's all right. You were dreaming."

I rubbed my eyes and sat up, pulling my yellow and green blanket closer around me. The warmth from the fire burned my face, but my back felt icy.

"Are you still cold?" I startled as I realised that the stranger had moved and now sat closer to me, staring into the flames. I'd been so distracted I hadn't seen him move.

"Yes. Do you have any food?"

His eyes snapped to mine. "No, I don't. That was why I was here in the woods, hoping to find some."

I almost smiled, and took over flame-staring where the stranger had left off. We sat without speaking for a while, until he broke the silence.

"What is your name?"

I turned to find him looking at me.

"Rebecca."

"It's a pretty name. Are you married?"

I looked at him and scowled—so this was what all his chivalry came down to. He saw my displeasure in my eyes.

"I only meant to ask as I was wondering why you came to be here in the forest, too."

"My husband is dead, and probably has been for some time. I lived with my sister and her family, but they were murdered by the Bretons. If you hadn't been waiting here, I most likely would have joined them."

"I'm sorry. Do you have anyone else that you could go to?"

I shook my head. "No. It's just me now." Staring into the flames, it finally dawned on me how alone I really was. Tears began to well in my eyes, and I sniffed and wiped them away with the back of my hand.

Suddenly, I felt stone-like arms around me, and my face was pressed into a solid, metal-covered chest. My tearful sniffs became wails, and the stranger's hands stroked my hair.

After what seemed to be an eternity, I was all cried out, but we stayed huddled together. I expected his body to feel warm, but instead he felt as icy as the night air. I guessed that chain mail wasn't the warmest garment to wear, and feeling guilty, I adjusted the blanket so it covered both of us.

Finally, I looked up at him and examined his face close up. He was clean shaven, and quite handsome. His skin was blemish free and seemingly pale; in the firelight I couldn't make out the shade of his eyes, but they seemed dark.

"What is your name? I should at least know who you are, seeing as you saved me earlier. It would be nice to have a name to go with my gratitude."

His eyes looked down at me, and I suddenly became aware of exactly how close we were to one another.

"Leofrid." He watched my face intently for a moment and I stared back in return, momentarily lost in the angle of his cheekbones and caught in his unblinking gaze.

He looked away and I snapped out of my daze.

"You're not Norman," I stated.

"No."

"Where are you from, Leofrid? Are you a knight?"

I noticed the sides of his mouth twitch. "I'm from England, across the sea. And I'm many things, but a knight isn't one of them."

I wondered how he came about his mail and his colours, but instead I asked a different question. "Why did you save me?"

His eyes snapped back to mine. "How could I not? It would have been a shame if someone so beautiful had perished instead of those animals. I'm not a saint, Rebecca. I'm no more gallant than the next...human."

"You're the only kind man I've come across in a long time. Not many people would have taken on five armed men over one girl, alone in the woods."

His mouth twitched again. "They weren't much of a match for me. It was my pleasure to end them, I assure you." His cold hand tilted my chin until he stared directly into my eyes. "I'm glad that I did save you, because I don't often have company. For tonight, I will play the hero, but trust me when I say that I'm not deserving of such a title. Tomorrow, I will be something different entirely."

I looked at him in confusion, but then my gaze dropped to his lips, and then back to his eyes. Registering the action, Leofrid paused, before slowly moving his mouth in toward mine.

His lips were as cold as the rest of him, making my own seem warm in comparison. I now felt twice as guilty that I had the bulk of the blanket over me, and I lifted my palms to the sides of his face, trying to warm him as our mouths gently moved against each other.

He pushed me back until I laid on the earth and leaned over me, his hand dropping from my jaw, down my neck and along my collarbone, until I could feel its coldness cupping my breast through my dress.

My palms moved from his face and up into his hair. Leofrid pulled his face away from mine and looked down at me.

His eyes looked almost black in the darkness, and I knew enough to recognise lust on the face of a man. Men didn't often show me unconditional generosity; Leofrid hadn't tried to force anything from me—the kiss was probably more encouraged by myself than him. He was handsome, and had rescued me from rape and certain death.

I wanted to reward his chivalry in the only way I knew how, so I lifted my mouth to his again.

Our kiss changed and became less gentle. His hands opened the fastenings on my bodice to allow him access to my naked flesh, and I moaned aloud. Finally, his hands began pulling up my dress until it was up around my hips and the links of his mail shirt dug into my thighs.

He paused and struggled for a few moments to remove himself from the confines of his metal shirt and the padding underneath while I lay still and watched him. Underneath, his body was toned, but still lean with youth. He couldn't have been more than eighteen or nineteen, yet when he was covered he had seemed so much older. There was something about his face that made him seem positively ancient in comparison to the rest of his physique.

Once completely naked, he leaned over me again, and I wrapped my naked legs around him. I wasn't a virgin—I knew what came next.

Leofrid paused and brushed a strand of hair away from my face. He looked serious. "I know this is your way of saying thank you. When you wake up, please understand that it was my way of saying thank you to you, too. I know you are alone—I want you to be able to fend for yourself."

My forehead wrinkled as I tried to comprehend what he was saying to me, but then his mouth met mine again and I melted into forgetfulness. His icy hands held my hips and then he pushed forward and entered me. My breath caught, but on the second thrust, I sighed.

Leofrid then rested on his forearms and buried his face in the curve of my neck as he moved rhythmically. He was cold everywhere and I worried that he was in the process of freezing to death. I wrapped my limbs more firmly around him, resulting in a quiet whimper in my ear.

He began to move more quickly and I arched to meet him. One of his fingers drifted up my body, feeling like an icicle as it passed over my bodice, lingered around my breast, and then a palm settled against my jaw.

I smiled as I looked up at the blanket of trees above me, and saw the occasional star peeping through.

Then Leofrid tensed and hissed. Suddenly, I felt stinging pain at my neck and I tried to pull myself away, but the tender hand at my jaw suddenly became a firm grip, holding me steady.

I cried out and then suddenly I was on my own, lying by the fire with my dress bunched up and bodice unfastened. Leofrid was gone in an instant. Touching a hand to my neck, I wondered whether it had all been real, but when I looked at my fingers, I saw the unmistakable redness of blood coating them.

Then pain. Searing pain—starting from my neck and quickly spreading throughout my entire body. I screamed—the noise of my agony reverberated amongst the trees with no one to hear. I shrieked and writhed until the sun had long risen and set again, and I was sure the cycle of night and day had passed at least one more time.

Finally, all the pain seemed to retreat into my chest, where my heart pounded frantically. Thudding like a drum, it gave its last beats and then stopped.

I laid still and looked about, able to see as if for the first time. Not only could I see trees and the ashes of the long dead fire, but I saw them in intense detail—every crack in the bark, every shining grain of ash, every leaf, and every pebble on the earth.

The most overwhelming sensation of all was the dryness in my throat—every waft of air that passed between my lips seemed to make it burn even more fiercely.

I tentatively got to my feet. Taking a deep lungful, I registered many different scents, and was able to recognise many of them. Earth, grass, small animal, leaves, death, and something unmistakeably sweet and familiar. I did not have to guess what it was—though everything before the torture seemed hidden by a veil, I remembered Leofrid's clean scent.

I got to my feet and followed it, fastening my loosened bodice as I went. When I moved, the action seemed effortless—I stopped and marvelled at myself, holding my hand in front of my face and wondering how it now seemed to have lost its lines and calluses. I now looked as if I'd never done a day of work in my life, and my skin was almost white in its paleness.

The smell of decomposition assaulted my nostrils, and I headed to my right to find a number of rotten bodies lying on the ground, their stomachs bloated and the stench disgusting to me. I headed away and tried to find the sweet trail again; it led me through the woods until I exited and found myself in front of the burnt remains of a familiar hut.

I thought that I should cry, but no tears would come. Instead, I walked amongst the blackened wood, until I found a small knife beside a charred corpse. I picked it up and wiped it; it was the only souvenir I took.

Following the clean scent, I moved with startling speed through Normandy, until I reached the coast. I walked along a sandy beach for the first time ever, filling my chest with salt-air and realising that the trail ended at the water's edge. He was from across the water, from England. That would be where I would find him.

First, I needed to get across, but I had no boat. I headed east along the sand, until I saw a settlement in the distance. Initially, I had planned to ask if there was any way I could be taken across, knowing that the only belonging I had with me to barter with was the knife I tucked into my bodice.

When I got closer, a subconscious reaction took over me entirely. Before I knew what I was doing, I had sprinted into the village and proceeded to devour the occupants. I allowed many to flee, and once I'd had my fill of the blood of those who hadn't been so lucky, I slumped to the ground and surveyed the destruction I had caused.

What was happening to me? I had no idea. After sleeping with Leofrid and after he had bitten me, I had become a monster. I had just drunk human blood, and had been powerless to hold myself back. My actions had been entirely unthinking, and now I had time to dwell on what I had done.

Still, no tears fell from my eyes. I felt as cold as my body temperature, which I now recognised as the same as Leofrid's.

After what felt like days waiting, I cleaned myself in the sea, washing off all the dried blood from myself and my dress. An idea occurred to me. Once dressed again, I walked further into the water, hoping to drown myself and destroy the godless beast I had become. My lungs filled with water, but the ending I hoped for did not come.

Disheartened I headed back to shore, before stopping and looking back. I could not sail a boat, but if I could not drown, maybe I could swim to this strange country across the water. Wading back in, I tried my plan, swimming far out and finding that I did not tire. Through the dark I swam, until at dawn I caught sight of land.

I walked lightly over the sand, while water dripped from my drenched hair and clothing; I felt like some kind of sea monster emerging from the depths. Now, the burn in my throat was consuming all my thoughts, though in my own mind I recoiled from it. Part of me hoped that I would find somewhere inhabited soon, while the rest of me prayed that I would not.

I left the beach and headed inland to see which part of me would get its wish.


	2. Chapter 2 Heather and Heathens

**I do not own Stephenie Meyer's Twilight universe, no copyright infringement intended. Rebecca the vindictive vamp, however, is a product of my own twisted imagination.**

**WARNING – DAMAGED FRENCH VAMP MEETS LUSTY SCOTTISH HUNK FOR FUN, FROLICS AND MUTUAL BLOODTHIRSTINESS**

**Written to the sound of "A Gift of a Thistle" on the Braveheart soundtrack. **

**Oh, and I'm totally imagining Robert as a long-haired Gerard Butler, by the way. Think "Beowulf and Grindel" meets Braveheart/The Highlander.**

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**Chapter Two – Heather and Heathens**

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**13****th**** Century Scotland**

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Once I'd gained enough control of myself and the overwhelming lure of human blood, I became more selective about my victims. I could smell him, even though I could not yet see him, and so I sped over the purple heather as I sought him out.

By now, I knew what I was. In Northern England, about fifty years ago, I'd stumbled across others like me—other vampires. Knowing what I was and why I was driven to kill helped me feel much better about what I did. For a long time, I had thought myself cursed—now I knew it was really a blessing.

Since my crossing of the English Channel, I had covered almost every single inch of England and Wales looking for Leofrid, and found no sign of him. Deep inside, the hope that I might come across his scent had died, but still I searched. I'd come this far, so I should complete my task.

The other vampires had provided me with female company and a distraction, as well as focus and knowledge about my true self. I'd temporarily given up my fruitless tracking, but then one night, as we'd been sitting talking in the forest, a huge wolf-like beast had ambushed us.

I was the only one who had escaped with my life. The sight of my new found vampire friends being torn apart had horrified me. I'd not dared to go back to the spot and put them back together later—I was too afraid of the foul creature.

Unsure of where else to go and with no companionship, I had resumed my wandering. I'd moved on from England and now I was working my way through Scotland. It was a visually stunning land, and I was enjoying this part of my journey the most. I loved the undulating landscape and snow-topped mountains, the scented pines, and fresh weather. Above everything, I enjoyed the solitude.

Leofrid had been right. I was on my own, and he'd given me the ability to fend for myself. His way of saying "thank you" had been a gift.

When I looked back on our only meeting that night almost two centuries ago, I saw it through the grey mist of humanity, yet to me, it was the only time I'd felt truly connected to a man. I remembered that I had been married and widowed, yet I could recall or feel very little about my long dead husband.

Leofrid was real to me. That was why I felt so compelled to find him. I loved the memory of him, though I did not know enough to love the person. No other person I could recall had ever been so honourable or noble. I'd given him my body, and in return he'd given me strength and immortality—a fair exchange and I did not begrudge it. I was not quite ready to let go of my dark knight despite the abandonment.

The rest of mankind sickened me. Human men had never done anything other than try to possess me or take from me—my beauty had been my curse. Neither my looks or the nature of a man had changed throughout the years, only now it worked in my favour rather than against me.

I could choose my victims rather than blindly consume, and opted to exact revenge on the sex that had tormented me during my life. Death had given me a power to right the wrongs I'd experienced, and I did so with fervour.

My favoured tactic was to come across a lonely man in the wilderness and appear lost. Their uncontrollable lust made them my slave, and when I'd let them think I'd given them what they wanted most from me, I took everything from them. I reconciled myself with my inhuman nature by surviving off the blood of those I considered little more than animals, beasts governed entirely by their own instincts.

I would use that very tactic on the Scotsman I pursued now. Finally closing on him, I held back until the sun had begun to fade and he began setting up a camp for the night, in the shelter of random outcrop of rock amongst the rolling hills of heather.

If it was too light, the shade of my eyes would scare him or he would ask too many questions. In my experience, curiosity soon got killed in the dark when an attractive woman sat by a man's side.

As the grey light faded into night, I stepped into sight. I'd since swapped my Norman dress for finer clothing, and I had a thick, dark blue cloak. I was no longer a serf, but a lonely noblewoman in the wilderness. He soon noticed me, and as I approached, his was gaze focused entirely on me.

Walking at human speed bored me, but it was necessary for the pretence. When I drew near, he spoke.

"Hello there." When I didn't respond, he continued. "What is a lady such as yourself doing wandering alone? It's not safe." His voice was deep and gravelly, with a distinctive Scottish accent.

"We were set upon by robbers and my whole party was killed. I saw your fire. Please can you give me safe passage to the nearest lord, so that I can contact my family?" I looked desperate.

"Sorry, milady. Of course, I can take you to Castle Roy, near Abernathy. I'm sure they can help you."

"Thank you," I said, before waiting expectantly.

The man before me had shoulder-length brown hair and wide blue eyes, which hadn't left me since I had first come into view. Dirt had gathered in his laughter lines, and I guessed that he had not washed for a while—that was something I'd had to come accustomed to, as men generally didn't come along any other way. Now I was not at risk of hypothermia, I washed regularly in any river or lake I came across.

"We won't be able to go any further until morning. I don't have much but I have some food, a fire and blankets." He motioned for me to sit down, and with a sweep of my cloak I walked past him and silently took a seat by the fire.

The Scotsman took stale bread out of his bundle, and some dried-looking meat. He held it out to me and I shook my head.

"You should eat something. We have a long walk tomorrow."

"No, thank you." I registered the difference between my soft accent and his brusque growl. His blue eyes remained transfixed on me, but I did not meet his gaze.

"You're French. What's your name?"

I snuck a quick glance at him and then turned away.

"Yes, I'm Norman. My name is Rebecca." I didn't want the burden of coming up with a more elaborate introduction—I had been discovered that way before, when someone had been familiar with the family I'd claimed to be related to.

"Robert Buchanan." I turned and looked at the human, but refused to associate him with a name in my mind. He sat there in a ragged, cloak of no discernable colour, with a garish green, yellow and red tartan sash over a dirty, brown tunic. Next to his bundle there was a wooden staff and a sword wrapped in fabric. So he was a fighter—it did not intimidate me. No man posed a threat to me as I was now infinitely stronger than even the most brutal human male.

Still staring, he proceeded to put some of the stale bread in his mouth. "So how long have you been wandering? How long have you gone without food?" As he spoke, I was treated to a view of the inside of his stuffed mouth. I turned away in disgust.

"You must be hungry." He offered me another handful and I balked a little.

"I'll survive. I can wait for something more appetizing," I said haughtily. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him take another bite and another look. I allowed him to finish his meal, and the final light went from the sky until there was nothing but the glow and crackle from the fire and the distant noises of wildlife.

"You're not very talkative, are you?"

I rolled my eyes in frustration—so much for my prey not being curious after nightfall. I felt a little more impatient with this one than I usually did. His interest in me was irritating—I did not want to talk, I wanted to feed.

"In my position, would you be?" I dared to look him directly in the face.

"What are you? Some kind of princess?"

"Not my title, you fool! I've seen my friends and servants killed before my eyes. Strangely, I'm not in the mood for conversation at the moment."

"I see. You'll let me escort you to the nearest French English bastard of a nobleman, but my food and my company isn't good enough for you?"

I gasped. "Watch your mouth in front of a lady, you...animal."

At that, he threw his head back and laughed. I fell silent, and as if to annoy me further, he began softly singing to himself. I shot a venomous glance in his direction and decided I would have to silence him sooner rather than later.

"Anything I can get for you, Princess?"

Putting on a mask, I suddenly softened my face. "I'm cold."

"Ah, sorry." The man got to his feet, grabbing a piece of fabric in the horrendous tartan out of his bag and attempting to put it around me. I made sure that his skin touched mine in the process.

"Jesus Christ, you're frozen." Kneeling beside me, he put both of my hands in his and rubbed them in a futile attempt to get some blood flowing. His hands were rough and I didn't doubt that my own were now a few shades dirtier because of the contact.

His hands then moved up to my face and cupped my cheeks. "Why didn't you tell me you were so bloody cold? I'm an oaf."

I looked him in the eye. "You are."

His face lit up with a smile. "It's not just your skin that's frosty. Now you're not going to like this but I'm going to have to warm you up before you freeze to death." He shuffled around so that his legs were on either side of me, and my back was to his stomach. "Is that better?"

I paused for a while and smiled victoriously so that only the flames could see. "Yes."

He rubbed my arms and legs through my cloak, and neither of us spoke. Despite the thickness of my garment I could feel his bodily heat, and enjoyed the heady sensation combined with the scent of blood tinged by the smell of unwashed, sweaty male. I swallowed back a mouthful of venom.

I shifted a little and enjoyed the small jolt I elicited when my body moved against his. Men—always so predictable. Before he had a chance to recover himself, I leaned my head backwards until it rested on his chest, and pretended to be asleep. His breathing caught for a moment.

Now and again, I would fidget as if dreaming, always in a way that I would be sure he would notice. I felt a familiar prod in my back and the man began running his fingers through some loose waves that had escaped the hood of my cloak. Then the low song began again, and I'd had enough of my appetizer.

I sighed and snuggled into him, before jolting "awake" and sitting up suddenly.

"It's alright. You're safe," he growled into my ear. His voice was thick and raspy, the sound of a man who had been sitting thinking impure thoughts for too long.

My shocked eyes locked with his, and I held him there. For a moment, he stared back before he became less focused and dazed.

A hand lifted to my face and brushed my cheek, and in response I parted my lips. His response was sudden but expected, as his hairy jaw brushed against mine and our mouths connected. He was rough as he kissed me, and wound a thick, warm arm around my back to crush me closer to him.

I turned so I knelt between his thighs, and his hands moved up to my waist. Breaking the kiss, I then unfastened the clasp of my cloak and flung it to one side, allowing my hair to escape and dance in the breeze. My hands then dropped to the fastenings of my dress and after snapping out of his lustful stupor, his trembling fingers assisted me until I was entirely naked.

So much for being concerned about my warmth, I thought. It was amazing how quickly men became brainless when the prospect of sex arose.

We both turned our attention to his clothing, which was much easier to remove, and once he was free of the hideous tartan and tunic, I looked down at his body. He was definitely a fighter, I noted, as I observed his bulging arms and chest which were spattered with hair.

The type of men I hated most were soldiers. They took and they pillaged and raped without concern for the anguish they caused—I always showed them the least mercy.

I pushed him back and laid my slender frame against his bulk as I kissed him again, the soft stabbing of flesh against my stomach alerting me to his need for me. Calloused hands ran up my thighs, around my angular hips, and sought out my breasts, before reversing the journey and pulling me tighter, creating more skin on skin contact.

"You're cold—" he began, but I quickly silenced him again with my mouth before pulling away.

"Then warm me up."

I straddled him, positioning myself ready to impale my body on his. His eyes dropped to watch the imminent connection, before rolling back in his head as I moved downwards.

"Sweet Jesus," he cursed. I said nothing in response, but began moving slowly.

His hands rested gently on my ribcage, and his eyes roamed over me in my entirety. We continued without speaking, until his breath started coming in gasps. I leaned forward, as if meaning to kiss him; his mouth sought mine and his hands found my breasts. Before touching his lips I diverted my head.

My teeth sank through the flesh in his neck and he roared. His body froze and he tried to buck me off him, but finally unleashing all of my strength I kept him pinned to the earth. As he writhed and struggled, I was only aware of the rush of fluid down my throat and the sudden flush of heat inside me as I stole his vital fluids.

Eventually, his struggles became weaker, as did the flow of his blood as it left his body. With satisfaction I felt the life draining from him, until I was wrenched from my moment of pleasure.

A howl echoed through the night and I sat up immediately.

Disconnecting myself from his inert form, I got to my feet, hastily gathering my clothing together.

The howl sounded again, but before I rushed off into the night I gave my victim one last glance. He lay there pale, naked and unmoving in the light of the fire.

The werewolf chased me over the length and breadth of Scotland for over a month. Sometimes it would even get so close that I would hear its heavy breathing and smell its stench. Luckily, werewolves spent some time in human form, so I took the opportunity to feed when I could. Eventually, I reached the far north and ran out of land, so I decided to take a more watery escape route; I swam south until I found land again.

Once I felt safe, I could be more selective in my choice of victims—I would have to find a female of a similar build so I could find new clothing. The pursuit and the swim had thoroughly ruined my fine dress.

I began my search, until one day I ran across a scent that caught my attention; it was warm and comforting, like baking bread, but far sweeter. Knowing my own kind when I smelled them, I followed the trail. It was not new, but still strong enough for me to track.

Concentrating on finding the vampire, I found myself back in familiar heather-covered hilly expanses and forests. The scent led me to a startling sight.

On the horizon, I saw a huge hairy mound and caught the foul smell of the werewolf that had chased me for so long. It would have caused me to bolt, if it hadn't been for the accompanying tang of decay. I approached apprehensively, and noted that the area was saturated with the warm, sweet scent.

When I finally drew near and saw the beast up close, I could see that he had been savagely attacked and torn apart. The vampire must be stronger than any I'd ever encountered, as my former companions had been overpowered easily by a similar beast.

Another thought occurred to me—the vampire must be a violent, male warrior. The thought dissuaded me from tracking him further, and so I decided to head south. I doubted that Leofrid had ventured so far north into the wilds, and so I decided to leave this island and return to the forests of Normandy. Maybe he had returned there looking for me.

I had reached northern England when the bready-smelling vampire caught up with me.

After dispatching a man using my preferred tactic, I was re-dressing myself when I sensed a sudden presence. Whirling round, I saw a large, feral-looking vampire standing at the edge of the clearing.

The human I thought I'd killed the night the werewolf had found me stood glaring at the corpse. Searching his face, I saw red eyes where once there had been blue.

"You!" I yelled. "How did you—?"

"I was about to say the same thing." His voice was still deep and husky, but the coarseness had gone. His eyes were magnetised to the remains of my meal.

"He's empty—you're too late. Find your own food," I hissed as I finished straightening my clothing.

"So this was what it was all about. Is he dead, or have you done the same thing as you did to me?"

I looked at my victim, and then back at the new vampire I'd inadvertently created. "He's dead, and I thought you were, too."

"Oh, nice. So this wasn't something you did to keep me around, then?"

I laughed at the ridiculousness of the idea. "No. This—" I motioned in his direction, "—was a mistake."

The new vampire roared and punched a tree, which burst into splinters, and I backed away in fear. Now that he was also immortal, he was a threat.

"And this is how you do it? You fuck us to death, and I was an _accident_?"

"This is my tactic. It's what works for me," I replied in a soft voice, in case I provoked him. Newborn vampires were the strongest and the most volatile, so I had been told.

"Your _tactic_. You goddamn whore. You fucking monster," he bellowed at me, the noise echoing amongst the trees.

"I didn't hear you complaining when this whore was fucking you. Be grateful I took the time to make your end so pleasurable—as you'll know too well by now, we don't have to play with our food." I regretted my response to his insults immediately and cowered.

"Don't I fucking well know it? After you burned me, I went _home_. I killed my entire family. Have you any idea—?" He ran his hands through his matted hair and gritted his teeth.

In an effort to calm him, I simply said, "sorry."

"Sorry. Now she's goddamned _sorry_."

"I didn't mean to turn you."

He eyed me with animalistic eyes. "But you did. So now what?"

"So, now you do whatever you want. You can live indefinitely—only werewolves and other vampires can kill you. Right now you're a newborn. You will get more control as you get older, maybe in a decade or two."

"A decade or two?"

"You'd be surprised how quickly it passes," I offered, but the accidental vampire ran his hands down his face in desperation. Looking at him in more detail, I recalled how he'd looked as a human. I noticed his weathered skin was smooth, even and pale. Now, only his clothes smelled of sweaty male, and a more putrid scent...

"You killed the werewolf," I said as I realized how the beast had met its end.

"Is that what it was? It came at me from nowhere."

"They are our natural enemy. I was travelling with friends and a werewolf killed them all," I explained, while he fidgeted.

"There are others...like us?"

"Yes, there are other vampires. Not many."

"A vampire? Is that what I am? Is that why I..." he trailed off and looked pained.

"Yes."

Keen to move on, I continued my journey and the new vampire ran alongside, his brown hair tangling in the wind. As we ran, I explained a little more about what we were and what we could do—he listened intently.

I caught a whiff of human on the breeze and my eyes snapped to the newborn, only to see a crazed look in his eyes. His course immediately diverted to the source. For a moment I followed, but then I realised now was an ideal time to use his distraction to get away. I stopped and sprinted south and deeper into England.

I finally reached the Southern coast, only to find I was being followed. This time, I smelled him before he caught up with me, and after a few miles, I slowed.

"You left me!" he said in an accusing tone.

"That was the idea. I'm not looking for company. You're on your own now."

"And what if I don't want to be?"

I laughed. "That's not my problem. I work best on my own, and I'm not good around men."

He snorted. "You mean you're a little too good around men on your own. You did this. I figure that makes you responsible."

I halted, and when he realized I'd stopped, he ran back to where I stood.

"Can't you take a hint? I don't want you around!" I hissed.

"Well, you should have thought of that before you turned me into _this_."

"I've already explained. That was an accident," I was becoming more frustrated by the minute.

"So you say, but I think you really couldn't get enough of me, so you decided to keep me."

I rolled my eyes. "Please."

We stood in silence, until the atmosphere grew so thick with tension that I had to clear it.

"Why are you following me?"

"I figured that if you were heading south, I'd best be coming with you so I could at least kill Englishmen rather than Scots."

"I'm not staying here. I'm going back to Normandy," I explained, hoping this would dissuade him from making the crossing with me. It did not, so I tried another tactic.

"I'm looking for the vampire that made me."

"That's funny, I was doing something similar," he joked, but I did not laugh.

"He's a knight, called Leofrid."

"Is he your husband? Does he know how you catch your dinner?"

I didn't want to admit that I was unmarried, so I avoided the first part of his question. "No man tells me what I will or won't do."

For a while he went quiet. I hoped that he was coming around to my way of thinking and would leave me alone...until my hopes were dashed.

"How long since you last saw him?" When I didn't respond, he repeated his question.

"Since he turned me."

"And how long ago was that?" he continued to interrogate me.

"About two-hundred years ago, but I fail to see how this is your business. Now if you will excuse me—" He interrupted me by laughing loudly—a deep, rolling belly laugh. "What?"

"And you say I don't take a hint."

I scowled at him. He had now thoroughly outstayed his welcome.

"Have a nice death. I'm leaving now."

"I'm coming with you."

We argued the matter further in a less than adult manner, before I finally screamed. "Why are you so determined to come? I don't want you with me."

He grinned as I began making my way across the sand to the sea, and he kept pace alongside.

"I know—you've already told me that. I just want to see if the welcome he gives you is as warm as what you've given me."

Roaring in exasperation, I waded into the surf.


	3. Chapter 3 Destinations

**I do not own Stephenie Meyer's Twilight universe, no copyright infringement intended. Rebecca the vindictive vamp, however, is a product of my own twisted imagination.**

**Thank you to BforQueen, WolfGirlAtHeart and WolvesCanEatMe for all their help.**

**WARNING – THESE VAMPS AREN'T GOLDEN-EYED VEGETARIAN TYPES, NOR ARE THEY ORDERED LIKE THE VOLTURI. VAMPIRE IS AS VAMPIRE DOES—CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED.**

**Written to the sound of "Betrayal & Desolation" on the Braveheart soundtrack. **

**When I say "Roland," think Cillian Murphy. What an illustrious line up of stars I've chosen for this fic! This is the final chapter of this short story.**

**.**

**~X~**

**Chapter Three – Destinations**

**~X~**

**.**

**14****th**** Century Europe**

**~X~**

Robert followed me to France, and once we were there, he continued to irritate me. There were no signs of Leofrid in the forests of Normandy, or Brittany, or anywhere else in France. Still, I refused to give up on my quest.

Twenty years after I had mistakenly created my annoying male companion, I had finally come to terms with the fact that he was a permanent addition. I tried to run away on many occasions, but each time he had tracked me down—doubling his efforts to get under my skin as punishment.

While Robert was a newborn, my old way of feeding had to be abandoned, and even now that he had more control of himself, it had become awkward with a man around. With two mouths to feed, I'd had to concede to allow him to lend a hand, and so it had become more of a smash and grab rather than a sweet seduction. I much preferred my own methods—vengeance made blood taste even sweeter.

One thing I could say in Robert's credit, was that he had never tried to lay hands on me. I felt safe around him despite his maleness. He was my clown and I'd grown to appreciate his ever present humor, though I preferred not to show it.

Something that had not changed was his reluctance to take baths.

Today I'd forced him to wash, and had finally been allowed to throw his ragged clothing away in favour of something I had picked out, which was far more befitting a vampire. However, he wouldn't allow me to destroy his tartan, even though it had ground in dirt and bloodstains. While he bathed in a lake, I scrubbed the cursed piece of cloth in an attempt to get it clean.

"Are you going to fetch me my clothes or not, Princess? I wouldn't want to run across these other vampires naked." His voice came from behind a tree.

I got to my feet and carried his new outfit to him. I'd taken it from an unfortunate lord we'd run across recently, and as soon as I'd seen the similarity in size, I'd begged Robert to throw away his nearly destroyed tunic in favour of black leather and bear skin.

"Here...and stay behind that tree until you're dressed. I don't want to set eyes on you until you're decent." I caught a glimpse of thigh from behind the trunk and quickly turned away, going back to my task of cleaning the detested tartan.

"Thanks," Robert growled in French. I'd made him learn my language so that we could converse in either of our native tongues, but with his natural accent it never sounded quite right. French was a delicate, beautiful language, where even Robert's vampire voice managed to make it sound coarse.

I heard footsteps and looked up. From the neck down, he cut a fine figure of a man, and could almost be a nobleman or some kind of Viking prince; his face was wearing its usual ridiculous grin and his red eyes smiled back at me through tangles of wet brown hair, ruining the illusion.

"A slight improvement, but couldn't you have at least done something about this?" Within seconds I was behind him and attempting to sort through the knots hanging from his head. "It's no good—I'm going to have to comb it. I hope you haven't got lice."

He scoffed at the idea that vampires could get such parasites, while I searched in my bag then motioned for him to sit in front of me, as he was considerably taller than I was.

"Do you really think all this is necessary? They're vampires, too. It's not as if we're meeting the Pope."

I tugged a little harder as I combed. "I haven't seen another vampire in a long time. I'm not going to socialize with a vagabond in tow. If you insist on coming with me, you will look the part."

"Whatever the lady says." He turned and winked at me as he spoke; I sighed in frustration and forced his head to face the right way so I could finish the impossible task of untangling his locks.

"The lady says 'jump off a cliff.'"

He chuckled. "I'd do it. You know I'd die for you any day."

I tugged at a particularly stubborn knot. "You already have, remember? You've been putting me through hell ever since."

"Ow! I must have taken a wrong turning then, because I thought being with you was heaven. Jesus, woman, what are you doing to my hair?"

I snorted and ignored him.

A day or so earlier, we'd stumbled upon the scent of a vampire, and not just one, but many. Here in the Black Forest, it seemed that many of our own kind congregated in a nearby chateau. I could not smell Leofrid, but wondered whether any of the unfamiliar vampires had seen him.

Once I was satisfied that Robert was well-presented, we approached the small castle. As we neared the gates, two shapes materialised only inches away from us. They'd been swift even by our standards.

"Who goes there?" one of them hissed, his accent strange and not one I had ever come across before; the other vampire merely loomed and stayed silent. They both stared at Robert, waiting for him to speak, but my creation gestured to me.

"We stumbled across your scents. I was wondering if you might have seen a friend of mine lately. His name is—"

"Go inside," the hissing vampire interrupted, stepping back and allowing us to approach the main entrance. I looked at Robert, who attached himself firmly to my right side as we followed the two anti-social vampires, until we were led down numerous corridors into a cavernous wooden hall.

Both mine and my companion's eyes widened.

On the floor, were numerous bloody dead or still-living humans, and over them crawled at least four other female vampires in varying stages of undress. Their eyes snapped up to us immediately and Robert and I paused. The two guards continued on toward the front of the room, where a single male vampire sat on an almost throne-like chair, flanked by two semi-naked immortal women.

The scent of exposed blood assaulted our minds, and we were barely able to concentrate on anything but the scene before us. For a second, I managed to focus on the guards. Once they were close enough to their lord, they leaned over and whispered something in the seated vampire's ears, causing him to stand up and beckon us forward.

Robert put a hand on my arm. "I have a bad feeling about this."

I looked up at him and rolled my eyes. "Welcome to being a vampire. I told you the sexual approach was perfectly normal. What were you expecting? Monks and Bibles?" I proceeded with Robert stuck to me. As I walked forward, I noticed that the feeding females stopped what they were doing and their eyes and bodies followed our every move. I got the impression that it wasn't me they were looking at.

The vampire who was obviously in charge smiled. He had wavy, jaw-length brown hair and wore an expensive-looking burgundy jerkin, in a style I'd never seen before.

"Welcome. It's nice to have guests." He paused to assess both of us, and I noticed that his gaze lingered on me a little longer than necessary. "My name is Roland. Feel free to make yourself at home—this is a social place."

I looked around and my eyes rested on a human girl, laid on the floor with her eyes wide open, but not moving or screaming despite the horror around her. The throbbing of her heart consumed all of my attention.

"Why is she—" I began, but our smiling host interrupted me.

"Not moving? It's a particular talent of mine. Feel free...she's yours for the taking."

I tore my eyes away from the girl for a second to look at the vampire who addressed me. Out of the corner of my vision, I saw a number of the females milling around Robert, whose eyes had the familiar blood haze, and he shifted nervously.

"Away!" The male in charge shouted at the crowd Robert was drawing, and almost immediately they disappeared out of the room with low chatters that I could still hear in the distance. "Guests, please drink your fill. There will be plenty of time for introductions later. Go ahead."

Roland turned and sat back in his chair, attended by the impassive-looking women. Robert and I needed no further encouragement, and we both descended on our chosen victims.

A while later, once I was as full of human blood as I could possibly be, I sat up and could finally process my own gluttony. Robert was still draining a body, and I looked at the red sea of bodies lying around me. Not even the carnage I'd caused during my newborn days could compare; I felt elation with an edge of confusion.

I looked up at our host, who was sitting in his chair and smiling down at me. "Hello. Welcome to my castle. I trust you're enjoying my hospitality." Like any vampire I had ever met, he was attractive, and seemed to be pleasant.

"Yes, thank you."

"You look uncomfortable—as though you've never done this before. Am I right?"

I looked round again, and Robert had moved onto another body. "No. I've never seen anything like this in all of my days."

"Well, this is how my masters in the east believe vampires should be allowed to live. Have you ever heard of the Carpi?"

I blinked confused.

"I guess not. The Volturi?"

I shook my head.

"What is your name?"

"Rebecca," I replied.

"Rebecca, let me give you a little history and geography lesson. " He shifted in his seat, and I tried to ignore the alarm in my head that sounded when a male came too close without my permission. "My masters, the Carpi, are from Wallachia, which is quite some distance east from here. We are currently at war with another group of vampires, called the Volturi. We believe that vampires should be free to live as they please, and that humans exist to serve us. The Volturi want to force all vampire-kind to hide in shadows and restrict what they can and can't do. You could call what we do here a small recruitment drive for our vampire army."

"A vampire war? You mean there are many like us in the world." My curiosity overruled my mistrust, as the vampire leaned closer still.

"Hundreds of us. Although, thanks to the Volturi, that number is rapidly dropping. We're looking for fighters to strengthen our numbers. Do you think your mate would be interested? He seems to be the type that we are looking for."

"He's not my mate. I'm not sure—you would have to ask him." I noticed Roland's face brighten when I admitted Robert and I weren't together.

"I will ask him once he is fed. Now...my friends said you were looking for someone."

The reason I'd come here finally sprung to mind. "I'm looking for my maker. I haven't seen him in around two hundred years. I was wondering if he had passed through?"

"What was his name?"

"Leofrid." I looked at Roland hopefully. He took a moment to think.

"Dark hair. Young. English, if I remember correctly. Yes, he came by here quite some time ago. He was quite keen to enlist."

A grin stretched across my face. "You know where he has gone?"

"Yes, he joined my masters in Wallachia a century or two previous. But, please, don't rush off to join him. Part of what we do here is to desensitize potential soldiers, as we use human blood as part of our tactics. It is probably best that you get used to _this_ before you attempt to head out there."

I nodded.

"So, you seem quite attached to this Leofrid. Is _he_ your mate?"

Not wanting to explain the complicated situation, I avoided the question. "I've not seen him for a long time, and I'm keen to meet up with him as soon as possible."

"Of course you are. Of course," Roland pulled back from me a little. "Well, I'm sure you are keen to clean yourself up after this afternoon's entertainment. Anna!"

I looked down to see that I was soaked in blood, and my hands were bright red.

One of the scantily clad females rushed back into the room. "Show Rebecca to a room." He then turned back to me. "We will send your travelling companion to another room once he is done. Feel free to make yourself at home. _Mi casa es su casa._"

As I followed barely-dressed Anna down a corridor, I noticed a number of the other females rush back into the room I'd just vacated, giggling excitedly. I scowled more than a little.

A large vessel of warm water was filled for me, and I was almost clean when I heard footsteps in the hall. I had spent long enough with Robert to become attuned to the sound of his over sized feet, but recognized that he was not alone.

"Come back and play with us soon...Robert." There was a feminine chuckle. A sudden flush of rage hit me as I realized what had probably gone on since I'd left the bloody hall.

"Ah, I've got to get cleaned up."

"I could help you—" the female purred, but was interrupted when I opened the door.

"Robert," I hissed. "Hurry up and get cleaned up. I need to talk to you." I glared at the blonde female, who had her arms tangled around his neck. My companion looked sheepish, but gently pushed her away.

A while later, there was a soft knock at my door and Robert came inside once I answered. I explained all that I had been told, noticing the slight wince when I mentioned that I knew where Leofrid had gone.

"So you're going out there? To fight in a vampire war you know nothing about—just because a vampire that you met once is out there?"

"Yes. I've searched for him for two hundred years. Of course I'm going to follow him now that I know where he went."

"And what about me?"

"What about you? You're free to do whatever you want." I glared at Robert, who paced over towards the window and stared out in silence.

It was left to me to speak first. "So, are you coming with me or not?"

Robert looked over his shoulder at me. "Neh, I don't think I'm going to go fight in a war that has nothing to do with me. I think I'll head back to Scotland—I'm not into this kind of lifestyle and there's nothing here to hold me."

"Oh, you seemed quite fine with this 'lifestyle' a few moments ago, with that blonde draped all over you," was all I could manage to say. I'd assumed that my vampire companion would at least want to travel with me, and now it seemed I was continuing on alone.

"Female company is overrated anyway," Robert spat back, before storming out.

After he left, I sat in the room on my own for a while. Robert was a free agent, and heaven knows he'd not had physical female company in a long time. I shouldn't let the fact that he had urges like any other man bother me.

I tangled my fingers and fiddled with my sleeve for countless hours, before deciding that a bit of variety in the company I kept was exactly what I needed. When I got there, the hall was empty and practically clean, but I didn't have to search long before I found Roland.

"Ah, Rebecca," he greeted me enthusiastically, kissing me on both cheeks. "I'm so glad you've decided to stay. Robert told us that you intend on joining Leofrid."

"He came to see you?" I asked, as Roland linked his arm through mine and we began to take a slow stroll through the corridors.

"Yes, he told us he was leaving. Such a shame. I think that he would have been very useful for our cause."

"Robert's gone?" I froze, momentarily stunned that my friend could leave without saying goodbye after twenty years together. I felt sick to my stomach. It seemed that I didn't know him at all, even after all this time.

"Yes," Roland paused. "I'm sorry—I assumed he'd already told you. I would have informed you in a more sensitive manner, had I realised."

My shock burned away into anger at Robert's immediate abandonment, and I held back a number of violent urges. Making my excuses to Roland, I dashed outside and into the forest to let loose my rage.

Eventually, after spending three months with my new found friends, my bitterness over Robert had melted more into disbelief and sadness. Other than my internal anguish over losing him, I easily slipped into a routine with my new lifestyle. Roland was always attentive, and more and more I found myself identifying with the rest of the females in the coven.

There was always blood, lots of blood, and no rules or any hold barred. As a vampire, it was remarkably freeing to let your instincts take over and not have to worry about petty, insignificant worries. There were some issues, however, that did not go away. Some days, Roland was overly attentive, but if he attempted to get a little too friendly while I fed, I snarled to keep him away. Only I decided when and where I allowed a man to touch me.

One day, I lay on the floor after a particularly satisfying feed, when he got off his throne and lay next to me.

"You've taken to all this remarkably well. You barely even reacted to spilled blood this time. Are you sure that you want to head east and find this Leofrid? Won't you stay?"

I looked up at Roland and smiled. "I appreciate the offer, and I am tempted, but I have to go. I've searched for Leofrid all these years. I can't give up now."

Roland's mouth lifted, but his red eyes didn't share the sentiment. "I know. He's a lucky man."

Unsure of what to say, I gave him a sad smile in return.

"You know, this ability to make men fall in love with you might even be strong enough to consider a talent. You know I care for you, don't you?"

"Yes, Roland. I can see, though I belong to someone else."

Roland sighed. "Yes, to Leofrid. To see how much you care for him, it makes me want to go out in the woods, find a damsel in distress and turn her, but I'm sure I would not find anyone who could even hold a torch to your perfection."

"You flatter me," I whispered in reply, feeling awkward that I was obviously causing my host so much pain. I already knew I was less than perfect.

"Not at all. I guess I shall just have to enjoy the memory of your company and hope that we meet again. At least, I will be sure to give you a memorable leaving party and make sure I say my goodbyes. I cannot understand how Robert could have wanted to end his time with you prematurely."

I winced.

"You obviously had quite the effect on him, too. I've never known a guest refuse my girls when they've made an obvious offer."

"He refused?"

"Yes." Roland looked at me with sad eyes, but I barely paid attention in my distracted state. "He said that he couldn't...because he loved you. Another broken heart left in your wake."

"He said he loved me?"

My mind whirled, and Roland's confirmation only shook the foundations of my world further. From the cold, still cavity in my chest, I felt a twisting sensation that took my unnecessary breath away.

I had turned Robert as part of my retribution for how I had been treated when I was alive. As far as I had been concerned, all men were filthy beasts who only wanted one thing from me. Initially, Robert had fit the pattern exactly, but other than the one and only time I'd allowed him to touch me intimately, he'd never even made an attempt to possess me sexually, despite his obvious physical prowess. Over time, I'd become comfortable, until contact with him was no longer an issue.

I thought about our many conversations, how he took my prickly demeanor with good humor, and his acceptance of my hatred of men. For twenty years he had wandered with me, knowing my heart was set on finding another—all the time loving me, yet never pressuring me into giving anything more than my company.

"I'm sorry, Roland. I've got to go."

I got to my feet and rushed out of the room, then out of the castle. I was already miles away before I realized that I had no idea where Robert was; I already knew that finding a single vampire in Europe was like finding a needle in a haystack.

All longing thoughts of Leofrid were suddenly wiped from my mind. He was still the honourable and kind bloodthirsty knight that had saved me, but I now realised that the noblest man I'd ever met was Robert, the vampire I'd created and who had stuck with me for twenty years. Robert had respected my wishes, made me feel safe, and had accepted my difficult nature without question—getting nothing in return.

He had loved me, and I could see that the man I had needed had been beside me all along.

Robert had said he was returning to Scotland, so I decided that would be the first place I looked. I headed straight for the coast and crossed the Channel to England, heading north as soon as my feet hit dry ground.

I ran, still clothed in the exotic outfit I'd worn when I'd bolted—wearing less clothing made for swifter movement. Eventually, I came across his scent on the North-East coast of England, where undulating green hills rolled down towards the grey North Sea.

Barely taking the time to taste the air and know I was heading in the right direction, I sprinted, until rocky cliffs hampered my progress. Once on the dark sand, and pausing briefly to decide whether I was headed left or right, I saw him sitting alone, throwing pebbles at the sea, as the occasional rare glimmer of light through the clouds reflected off of him.

A beam of sunlight also caught me, and he looked up. Neither of us moved, and I saw soundless lips mouth my name.

Suddenly yanked forward by an invisible force, I covered the sand in impossibly wide strides. Robert got to his feet just in time, as I leaped up into his waiting arms. Winding my own arms around his neck, I almost knocked him over with the force of my greeting. Immediately, I pressed my mouth against his, as he pulled me closer with wide hands on my back.

I broke the desperate connection between our mouths, and his eyes flicked over me.

"Are you alright? What have they done to you?" he said, his eyes running over my diaphanous uniform which had helped me fit in with Anna and the others. I was still bloodstained and worse for wear from my swim. "I swear I'll kill them—"

"I'm fine," I interrupted, looking up at his familiar but confused face. He took a moment to process what I had said.

"Did you find him? What did he say?" Confusion twisted into hurt, and I felt his grip on me slacken.

"I never went...Robert, I love you." An imaginary heart-beat pounded while I waited for his response. It felt like a century before he spoke.

"You found me because you wanted to?"

"Yes. I want you. I need you—I just couldn't see it until you'd gone."

Another eternity passed, until Robert's mouth lifted in a smile. He barely had time to growl "I love you" before his mouth connected with mine. This time, his enthusiasm sent both of us tumbling to the ground, and I did not complain as I found myself laid on the sand beneath him. Then Robert pulled away.

I grabbed the back of his neck and prevented him from moving away. "Please," I whispered, as we searched each other's eyes. When he returned to me, I relaxed my grip.

His hairy chin bushing against my jaw, I laid back on the sand, while tugging at the black leather outfit I'd chosen for him months earlier. I cursed myself for not finding something easier to open, as the garment was no longer in pristine condition once Robert was naked.

I took a brief moment to appreciate the perfect, masculine form that I'd taken for granted over the years. He was built like a soldier—the type of male I hated most—but he'd thoroughly conquered my heart and I now willingly surrendered. In fact, I was impatient for him to take me, and I roughly tore off the inconsequential and bloodied clothing I barely wore.

Sand covered hands ran over my body—my breasts, my thighs, my stomach—while his mouth never moved from mine. I took time to touch every inch of him within reach, as if for the first time, as I'd never before appreciated the hardness of his muscles, and how firm buttock curved perfectly into broad back— how strong shoulders and thick arms led down into hands that wanted only me.

"Robert, I love you," I told him again as my need for him became almost painful in its intensity, and seeing my anguish, my love pulled a thigh around his waist.

"Rebecca—I've loved you from the second I laid eyes on you," he said, and then guided himself into me.

Closing my eyes, I let out a gasp. Robert froze, but when I opened my eyes again, I smiled and ground my hips against his. All the worry melted from his face, and he began moving, one hand supporting him on the sand while another held my hips steady.

As I looked up at his impressive physique and felt him deep in me, I felt complete and whole. As my burning release began building between where we joined, my chest also glowed, and when my orgasm took over, my entire body imploded with pleasurable sensations.

I collapsed into welcome oblivion, and a short while later, Robert joined me. He whispered in my ear as his body trembled.

"You're everything. You're my everything."

He collapsed onto me and for a while we laid there, saying nothing—just smiling.

~X~

_For the next two centuries, we continued to roam the British Isles. We were free—both physically and emotionally. He was my mate and a moment's separation was more than I could bear, so I never let him out of my sight._

_When the New World was discovered, we stowed away upon a ship, surviving on the blood of sailors, we finally arrived on undiscovered shores. I never did hear of another vampire who stepped foot on that land before we did—maybe we were the first?_

_The country was vast, and we explored it for many centuries, living as we had since our reunion. _

_One day, after stumbling across other vampires, we were told that small items from our past could be sold for unbelievable sums of money. Now, it seemed that vampires could live amongst humans, with the convenience of a fixed abode, near rapidly expanding cities full of our natural food source._

_Robert's sword bought us our first ever home together, as well as many other fine things, and we made the decision to end our nomadic life. I soon became accustomed to our new life of luxury, and my beloved did all he could to ensure it remained that way._

_We lived and loved each other for countless human life spans and I was thankful everyday for Leofrid's gift, as without it I could never have found Robert. With him by my side, I was truly blessed, and I could not conceive of a time where we could ever be apart. Two halves of the same whole, he was the best part of my immortality and without him, I would surely die._

**IF YOU WANT A H.E.A. FOR REBECCA AND ROBERT, THE STORY ENDS HERE. **

**I WILL DO AN EPILOGUE FOR THOSE WHO WANT TO KNOW A LITTLE MORE ABOUT THE TIE IN WITH RED EYES.**


	4. Epilogue  Prelude to Red Eyes

**I do not own Stephenie Meyer's Twilight universe, no copyright infringement intended. Rebecca the vindictive vamp, however, is a product of my own twisted imagination.**

**WARNING – IF YOU WANTED TO LEAVE THIS STORY AS A HAPPILY EVER AFTER, READ NO FURTHER.**

**Written to the sound of "Mornay's Dream" on the Braveheart soundtrack. **

**If you have read "Red Eyes and the She Wolf," you may remember what happens with Robert, Rebecca, Heidi and Demetri. If not, well...**

**.**

**~X~**

**Epilogue – Prelude to Red Eyes**

**~X~**

**.**

**19****th**** Century America**

**~X~**

Settled in our new home together, we lived far enough away from the nearest town to be ourselves, yet close enough to always have a feed at hand. Every tenth year, we would celebrate the end of our wandering by having a large gathering of vampires we were familiar with around for a party that would have rivalled Roland's idea of hospitality.

It was on one of these nights that we received a visit from two vampires from Italy. Robert had opened the door, and two dark unfamiliar shapes requested entry—a beautiful, reed-like female and her blond male companion. Enjoying my new found position in American vampire society, I took the opportunity to widen my circle.

"Welcome," I had whispered. "Feel free to make yourself feel at home. We are all friends here."

The blond male had smiled as he removed his gloves and looked around. He held himself in a rather stiff-looking posture and his voice dripped with arrogance. "Oh, we shall. Your parties are quite notorious. We have even heard of them in Volterra—Heidi and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about."

"Volterra?" Robert asked and looked at me. By now, we had both heard the name and knew that was where the Volturi were based. We also knew that they enforced their laws very effectively in Europe, and had annihilated many covens to put an end to the southern vampire wars—but we lived quietly, usually, and could not see any reason to worry. I guessed even the vampire "Spanish Inquisition" needed a little rest and relaxation now and again.

The blond male chuckled at the glance between me and my mate. "I can assure you that we're here for pleasure, not business." He was slightly shorter than Robert, but also powerfully built. The dark-haired female by his side was only marginally taller than I was; the smile on her beautiful face also gave out an aura of supreme self-confidence.

The brunette turned her grin in her mate's direction, and then walked forward, as if this was her house and she was the host. "Follow me," she said.

Surprisingly, we stepped into line behind her as she led us into our own bedroom, the blond male following not far behind; we left the rest of our guests in the ballroom.

The arrogant vampire signalled to the haughty female, who then sashayed out of the room and returned with some refreshments from the ballroom. The male sprawled himself on the ornate bed that dominated the room. "Now, let's get the pleasant distractions out of the way, before we have a civilized adult discussion about the rules of being a vampire."

I held Robert's hand and wondered what the strange vampire meant.

~X~

"_Demetri, that was just cruel." Heidi looked up at her companion, yet she smiled as she spoke._

"_What? Leaving the female alive? I consider that mercy. She'll certainly change her ways after that lesson." The glow of the burning building reflected in his eyes._

"_No, silly—although you're going to have to explain why you did that to Aro later. I meant what you manipulated them into doing."_

_The blond vampire smirked. "That was just entertainment. I didn't hear you complaining when you had them draped over you. They weren't bad."_

_Heidi chuckled. "Demetri, you are terrible. You're such a bad influence—corrupting me like this." Her eyes glittered with intent._

"_But Haidee, isn't that what you love about me?" he replied dramatically, before both members of the Volturi Guard turned and fled the scene._

~X~

**I'm cruel, I know. If you want to know what happened, you need to read Chapter 13 of Red Eyes and the She Wolf when Demetri encounters Rebecca in the present day. Hope you get a different view of Rebecca after reading this short background.**

**Love, Leanne x**

**Thanks to the awesome BforQueen, WolvesCanEatMe and WolfGirlAtHeart for all their pre-reading and betaing assistance. I love you more than I love vampire foursomes.**


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